Wicked Games
by Orlha Chloe
Summary: The sequel to Blood and Roses. Jackson is now the director and has Lisa at his side as his analyst. Two independent loners learn to coexist in a new world while taking on their first major job, methodical ruin of the growing Chechen mafia, Priliva, and Lisa quickly has to make the transition from managing customers and housekeepers to taking responsibility for the lives of others.


**It's probably not the best way to start a story, but honestly, I have no idea how this one's going to go. The way it's playing out in my mind, there's going to be even more OC-centric issues in this one. It wasn't my plan, but I think Jackson's character is more of a planner, which to me means a lot more reacting and responding to others than creating the plot himself. Lisa is similar- she's going to be organizing things and assisting Jackson much more than taking direct action in the plans. Plus, when we really get into taking down the Chechens, they obviously won't be doing much of the dirty work themselves, so it's either expand more on the OCs or skip those parts entirely. I still plan of giving them their shining moments, so don't worry about that- Jackson and Lisa should _not_ become background characters. We just won't see them in every chapter. **

**We'll see how it unfolds, but I'm thinking this story is definitely going to be more of an acquired taste than massively appealing. Hope you guys enjoy it, though! :P**

**Quick background- it's been about two weeks since the end of Blood and Roses, and Jackson and Lisa are still Miami. As you'll see, their problems haven't really changed much.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Song Remains the Same**

"Room service."

Lisa got to her feet when she heard the knocking on the door, carefully stretching her arm in front of her as she approached. She still felt that dull throb of pain, but it was infinitely easier to move than it had been even a week before. She was pretty sure that anytime Jackson was ready to leave, she was up to traveling again.

She opened the door, digging in her jeans pocket for a tip before handing it off to the employee, keeping her head bowed as she thanked him, pretending to be examining the tray. She didn't want to be rude, obviously, but she also didn't to give the man a complete view of her face. It was still too early- their faces were still all over the news, but hers less and less so as each day went by.

Lisa brought the tray over to the table, using the task as another test for her arm's stability. She still couldn't believe how much better she was feeling, especially with those first few days of groggy hell still fresh in her memory. Barely paying attention to her actions as she set up their dinner, she turned her attention instead back to the news. There had been more "developments" in the story, the product of an intense Jackson-led brainstorm session, each piece meticulously and skillfully leaked by Spencer for the maximum dramatic effect- the more soap opera, the lower the chance of people picking up holes in the story.

_"The man positively identified as Alex Dean is now believed to have been born Alexander Dubnikov, a former resident of predominantly Russian neighborhood Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, New York, living in Florida under an alias. The redhead woman seen with him in this footage has been identified as Nikita Pozdnyakov, also a resident of Brighton Beach. Pozdnyakov has not been seen since December seventh, and her daughter, Alexandra Kolesnikov has been missing since December ninth, according to Pozdnyakov's husband, Ilia. Dubnikov is reportedly the father of Alexandra, although..."_

Lisa shook her head in distaste, glancing up as Jackson walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a towel. "Odessa gave them up," she reported, motioning to the TV with a quick toss of her head. Spencer had agreed not to drag Nikita or Sasha's names into the story, but there was no way to stop anyone else from doing so. Lisa just couldn't believe that Nikita's husband, a criminal himself, had identified the women. _What an asshole._

She sat down, tempted to call Ben and give him some kind of heads up, but the man had been MIA since things had gone down at Marie's home- the only contact they had gotten was Jackson's laptop in the mail, which didn't even count. If he didn't answer when Jackson called, he sure as hell wasn't going to answer for her.

For Lisa's part, her name was officially cleared, and she had been verified as the dead woman in Joe Reisert's house. Spencer had taken the bloody shirt Lisa had originally worn during the assault on Keefe and had DNA extracted from the material. The medical examiner had used it in place of Cheryl's DNA, and after comparing it to DNA provided by Gloria Harper, who Lisa noticed to her amusement and irritation was going by Gloria Reisert again, concluded that the body was in fact Lisa.

"Of course he did," Jackson replied flatly, sitting next to her at the table. "His wife ran off with her exiled baby daddy, and it looks like she refused to change Sasha's name. He probably doesn't even care about the terrorism- it's a man scorned." He shrugged, unscrewing the lid from his bottle of green tea. "Apparently the mouth breather missed the memo that she married him out of convenience in the first place."

Lisa shook her head again, poking at her chicken. "It still seems like a stupid move on his part," she pointed out, almost sulking. On a more shallow note, she was somewhat irritated that she had lost the bet. Jackson had predicted from the start that the Russian trio would be sold out, but Lisa had insisted that Ilia would keep it to himself. Her reasons had been because of the man's loyalty- she had never met him after all- and more because identifying Nikita as his wife would expose the man and his community to questioning and investigation- even if it was all for show in the end- and she couldn't imagine him being that stupid. Plus, she did feel sympathy for Nikita and Sasha, but Sasha most of all- she hadn't chosen any of this, after all.

But it did add another twist to the already sexy story. It had completely enthralled Lisa so far to watch it unfold with such accurately inaccurate precision, and she had to tip her hat to Jackson- it was a gripping drama, complete with romance, betrayal, and assassins. The details were still hazy, but the narrative was slowly falling into place, and if Lisa wasn't involved herself, she had to admit that she would probably be just another member of the public addicted to watching the storylines weave in and out on her television screen- hell, she was anyway. And everything Jackson had predicted would happen was occurring right on schedule, adding a personal layer of fascination for her. It was such a sharp contrast to the plans he had been scraping together in the past few weeks.

Three days after Keefe's assassination, security camera footage from a hotel nearby the Pointe had been released, showing a red convertible, registered to an Alex Dean, fleeing the scene. But both Dean and the car were missing, and so Lisa had watched Ben's face plastered all over the news- was this man some kind of homegrown terrorist, or was he a innocent man, the victim of a carjacking and possibly an abduction and/or murder?

In the meantime, the revelation came out that Lisa had been the woman found in Joe Reisert's burned-down house, and when Dean's car was found abandoned and also burned through to the frame, the people had eaten it up. They now had a dead woman, possibly framed for an assassination attempt, a blown up house, a burnt shell of a car, and an attractive, missing man with a delightfully all-American name.

But the plot hadn't even begun to thicken. Spencer had given Lisa her original phone, recovered from the Atlanta library, and once Jackson got ahold of Ben's personal cell phone, the two had had a ball sending romantic texts back and forth. The feds simply altered the time stamps, and now Lisa and Alex were tied together, corroborated by both Cynthia, who recalled Lisa mentioning her attractive neighbor, and regulars at a local laundromat, who conveniently remembered seeing the couple there. With the media and evidence feeding this completely false relationship, a number of those witnesses remembered public displays of affection that had never happened.

Lisa loved it more than she should have. It was some kind of fantasy, watching film noir unfold with herself as the main character, a woman more intriguing than she felt in reality.

"Maybe, but not everyone thinks these things through," Jackson interjected into Lisa's thoughts, cutting a strip from his steak. "Not sure why you feel the need to keep telling me I'm right though," he added with a small grin before shoving the steak in his mouth.

Lisa chuckled softly, happy to see that Jackson was finally starting to relax again. She had mostly been glued to the hotel television as a distraction, trying to preoccupy her mind and keep from focusing too much on the sullen man with her. She didn't blame him for being so down, of course- he had told her about Jamie, eventually, and she knew he was finally coping with his friends' deaths as well as everything that had happened with Caleb, and coming face to face with his mother in such a way.

She didn't blame him, but she didn't know how to help, either. She listened on those rare moments in which he invited her into his tangled mess of thoughts, of course, and tried to give him some kind of feedback when he was actually looking for guidance, but she had refrained from pressing him about any of it, knowing that so much of what he was going through was internal and had to be handled as such. During those hours in which Jackson just hadn't wanted to talk, Lisa had been keeping herself busy the best she could.

But it was so damn frustrating- she just wanted to help, and it wasn't as though he wasn't allowing her in. She was just tired of all this obsession getting the man nowhere. She did her best with the smaller details- suggesting that they move to a hotel after the staples were removed and the local anesthetic injections weren't necessary. She knew feeling like a hospital patient had been getting to him, so at least that wasn't an issue anymore.

The reports had stopped coming for almost 24 hours after it had been revealed that Alex and Lisa had been in some kind of relationship, and the public had come up so many scenarios to fill in the gaps while they waited for more information. The theories ranged from crazy-romantic to criminally romantic, with a sparse handful actually predicting what was about to come.

Using Jackson's computer, Lisa had scoured the comment sections of the online news reports, and one of her favorite scenarios was about white knight Alex going too far in investigating his girlfriend's disappearance, which had led him straight into the hands of terrorists. Obviously, the poor man was now dead himself, food for the creatures of the Everglades and would never be found.

Lisa also enjoyed Bonnie and Clyde on crack, two homegrown terrorists falling in love and waiting for the perfect opportunity to take down the enemy. Lisa must have gotten cold feet or a rubber spine, because Alex turned on her and murdered her, finishing the job himself before disappearing. This theory didn't account for Jim Richards, though.

And of course, Jackson had called these predictions. Lisa was just in awe of how accurately he laid out the situation, how well he could read people he had never even met. He was going to be one hell of a director. There had been a few moments back then during which she felt as though Ben, Caleb, or she herself had been calling the shots, but she was definitely seeing now that Jackson was undoubtedly their leader, and why.

When Jackson wasn't dealing with his own personal problems, he had been breaking down _everything_ to Lisa regarding her future place as his analyst, and was helping her come up with ways to make the job her own once she had access to the records. For the moment, it was all in Minnesota, and Jackson was also handling calls from his brother, who was standing in for him as director _pro tem._ As for Marie, Jackson himself was taking care of it, occasionally meeting with other managers via Skype after his laptop had been sent to New York and delivered by Jeff. And only Lisa saw how vulnerable he was in his private moments- when anyone else was talking to him, Caleb included, Jackson was rock steady and confident.

After the public was given sufficient time to build their own stories, the next footage was leaked. A shy, uncomfortable Lisa- made blond through some skillful video editing- a confident, grinning Alex, and an equally comfortable unknown male in the lobby of Camden Brickell, pulling Lisa by the hand. The fed-doctored time stamp showed the footage to be from the afternoon of December first, the day Lisa had disappeared from Miami following her father's death. Why was Lisa still in Miami, let alone at her own apartment? Why did she look so scared if she was some kind of criminal mastermind, and if she wasn't, why did Alex look so calm unless he _was_?

Lisa followed Jackson's gaze to the television screen, feeling a sharp pang of sympathy in her chest when she saw the smiling photos of Nikita and a young brunette who had to be Sasha. She could see Ben in the girl, especially in her green eyes and wide smile. The last she had heard, relayed through Jackson, of course, Ben had parted ways with Caleb and Nikita back in Oklahoma, taking Cheryl's car and heading for New York instead. He had appointed himself in charge of clearing out Jackson's condo before John Kline's name was made public, but mostly, Jackson had explained that he was avoiding going to Minnesota and facing both Sasha and Caleb. Apparently he just wasn't up to handling being around people, especially if it entailed meeting his daughter for the first time. At least, not quite yet- he was still coping with Jamie's death, too.

The next "lead" in the story had come from Ben himself, in a way. The day before they killed Keefe, he had broken up with his "psycho" girlfriend, a woman named Kiara. He had told Spencer that all she had to do was tell the woman he had been seeing another girl on the side, and in her rage, she could be carefully coached as a witness to say whatever the hell they wanted her to say. It wasn't that she would say whatever they told her to say- more that they could plant ideas in her mind, and her anger would fill in the details.

Apparently they had asked the ex if she had ever heard "Alex" speaking any other languages, such as Russian, and if she had seen or heard him talking to suspicious people, because suddenly, this woman was all over the news, talking about how her creepy ex-boyfriend had a habit of texting and speaking to "shady fuckers" in Russian. A woman scorned, digging her ex's grave. It was absolutely fascinating how people could be manipulated into remembering events.

And the unknown man at Camden Brickell hadn't taken long to be identified. Numerous tips came flying in, but the most damning identification had come from the red eye flight attendants and a few passengers, verified by airport security footage- Jim Richards. How the hell had the man survived, and more importantly, how was he linked to this Russian-speaking Alex Dean, who more and more was starting to look like less of a Clyde or white knight and more like a terrorist?

That was when the story had begun to really congeal, even if it was a coalescence of partially-educated speculation. Alex and Jim had been accomplices all along, and Alex had to be the mastermind. Lisa had been abducted to prevent her from telling her entire story and eventually leading investigators from Jim to Alex, and then she had been disposed of- Alex was caught on surveillance leaked four days later at both Holiday and Super America in Miami purchasing gasoline, and the same footage had shown a female in the backseat of his car.

Lisa glanced back at Jackson, whose face had darkened upon seeing those photographs. He had told her the barebones of Ben's story, or more accurately, barebones of slim pieces, and just the few bits she had learned had increased her worry for the New Yorker ten-fold. She couldn't imagine how Jackson must be feeling, trapped in Miami and unable to do a damn thing about it, even if Ben actually allowed him in, which he apparently wasn't.

Everyone was trapped. Caleb couldn't leave Minnesota now- he was trying to run an agency he hadn't been a part of for five years and he was dealing with shit of his own. They all were. On top of everything else, Caleb had been forced to quit his job. Between his healing dislocated left shoulder- which he had apparently stressed during the attack on Marie- and his shot-up right arm, he just couldn't perform surgery. Lisa wasn't sure what story he had told the hospital, but she did know that he wasn't working there anymore.

She knew that Caleb and Jackson had had quite the long argument about the entire thing, but she just didn't know the details, and it was one more thing he didn't want to talk about. All he had told her was that Caleb had decided that leaving residency permanently was less complicated than attempting more medical leave, especially when he was going to quit anyway.

"At this time, investigators are still seeking to find the connection between Dubnikov and John Kline, but it is speculated that Kline is yet another alias used by this man."

Lisa turned her attention back to the television, watching a frame of surveillance footage she had seen a hundred times- Caleb and Ben standing near the entrance to the Pointe, both men grinning at each other. She knew from the original clip that Ben must have said something that Caleb found amusing, causing the smaller man to laugh, but it looked so damning in the story's context- two killers, hours after an assassination, sharing a laugh at the scene of the crime. No conscience, no concern- pure hubris and disregard for human life.

It was this footage that outed Jackson's main alias, something that Lisa still felt uneasy about. There was no way to avoid it- well, there was, but the "truth" was much simpler than doctoring hotel records and silencing multiple employees. The timestamp on the footage of Caleb, Ben, and Nikita at the hotel matched the checkout times of both Alex Dean and John Kline. After this connection had been made, Lisa had seen the photograph supposedly taken from John Kline's driver's license, impressively doctored to prevent those who knew Caleb from offering his name as a possible alias. She definitely saw the twins in that photo, but if she didn't know it was altered, she would have had to chalk it up to an incredible similarity but wouldn't ever say for sure it was either man, which was the point.

"How long before they find the connection?" Lisa asked, washing down her dinner with a drink of Diet Coke. She knew that part was much more complicated, mostly because it was an international effort, a trade Jackson was working out with the FSB themselves. If they created criminal records in Russia for both Ben and Jackson, he would give up the Chechen Marie had originally worked with. It was a tentative process, neither side willing to completely play their hand before the other came through.

"A week," Jackson snapped, suddenly irritated. He wasn't even looking at her, only staring intently on that same frame of Caleb and Ben. Lisa sighed heavily, setting down her silverware. She knew it had nothing to do with her question- it was just another mood swing, brought on by the heavy combination of stress and a dash of cabin fever.

Jackson got to his feet when he saw Lisa head for the balcony doors, a look of knowing on her face. He knew he was being a moody son of a bitch, but the last two weeks were causing some kind of slow descent into insanity, and he just didn't know quite how to explain it to her. He just hated sitting still and feeling useless, watching and waiting for the next step as the events unfolded around him. He was fine with sitting back, but at the moment, they were stalled in both his negotiations with the Russians and with his own issues. It was an irritating kind of limbo.

He pulled a cigarette from his pack, lighting it as he stared out at the lights of Miami. He hated how shifting his moods were. He wasn't manic depressive, because he wasn't manic nor was he depressed. He was just irritated, restless, and frustrated, and then sometimes less so, with nothing to do except answer Caleb's questions about running the branch- something he didn't entirely understand himself and often, he was taking a shot in the dark- and obsess.

"He's trying to back me into a corner with this residency shit," he finally snapped, not bothering to provide context. Lisa knew exactly who and what he was talking about. "You know that, right?"

Lisa nodded, leaning on the railing and waiting for him to continue. Jackson dropped his weight onto his free arm, bracing himself on the railing and pinching the bridge of his nose. It was just one more thing driving him up a wall, really. Caleb figured if he didn't have his residency, Jackson would be more likely to accept him back into the agency. Jackson didn't need to spelled out for him- he knew the man.

"You heard everything he said," he continued, sighing. "He's fucking unstable, right?" He glanced over at Lisa, who now looked uncomfortable, and hell, she should. Jackson wasn't entirely happy considering the idea that there was actually something unbalanced in his younger brother, something tangible- the idea that Caleb might actually be insane. "How many times did he tell you that what we do is horrible?"

Lisa tilted her head, thinking back. "He said a lot of things," she replied hesitantly, which only reinforced Jackson's opinion. If she was afraid to speak, it was because she could only offer damning evidence. "He said...you see your friends get killed and you don't have the right to get angry because you're a killer, too, and...there's nothing okay about what you do, the greater good is bullshit, and he never wanted to…" She paused again, probably trying to make sure she wasn't misrepresenting Caleb. "...he said he was here to help you, even though he knew it wasn't right, and- other things," she finished, cutting herself off before she could continue.

Jackson narrowed his eyes. "What other things?" he asked, immediately suspicious. What could possibly be so bad that she had stopped herself, considering that everything else she said wasn't exactly complimentary?

"It's between me and him," Lisa replied firmly, but she gave him an apologetic smile. Jackson clenched his jaw, taking a deep drag. He knew that he should drop the entire issue- Lisa didn't know Caleb well enough to really analyze him and the last time they had discussed it, Jackson had realized that Lisa had already known about Caleb's decision. He definitely didn't want a repeat of that conversation, which had ended when Lisa forcefully reminded him that they were keeping two particularly significant secrets from Caleb as well.

"Don't you think you need to let him make that choice?" Lisa asked softly, and Jackson quickly shook his head. At first, he had thought the same, but he was having second thoughts. There were many things he was obligated to do, but letting Caleb decide for himself wasn't on the list.

"I'm in charge," he reminded her, simply stating a fact despite how bratty the words could be interpreted. "I decide who to let in- if I think someone can't handle it, it would be irresponsible to allow them, don't you think?"

Lisa raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. "You really think he's _unstable_?" she asked skeptically, and Jackson sighed. It was so difficult to explain things to a woman who had known his brother for a week, even if he wanted to actually verbalize his thoughts. Somehow, admitting it out loud made it real, and Jackson himself didn't want to believe it.

"I don't fucking know," he admitted in self-directed frustration, running his free hand through his hair. "He's insisted for years that he's better than this, that he hated who he was, and he has one conversation with Ben, and now suddenly he's pulling a one-eighty. What the hell am I _supposed_ to think?" Either Caleb had had a complete change of heart in hours, he had been lying all along, or- "You never saw them together before," he continued, wanting so badly for her to understand. Wanting her to be on his side, for God's sake. "Ben can get him to do anything- I don't know how, but he did. Anything he wanted him to do, Caleb did."

Lisa frowned, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You think he-"

"No," Jackson interrupted. He knew where she was going with this- she thought he was accusing Ben of manipulating his brother, and Jackson would never imply something that sinister, at least where Caleb was involved. Ben was quite the manipulative bastard, but he would never knowingly turn Caleb in any direction against his will. "He never conned him- he's just always known how to talk to him to make him want certain things." He knew it probably sounded like six of one, half dozen of the other, but there was a fine line _somewhere_. Ben simply brought out a new side in Caleb, but it was definitely a side Caleb possessed with or without the man- it was all a question of whether or not he felt like showing it.

"Then Caleb wants to come back," Lisa replied firmly. "If he doesn't trick him or just make him think he wants it, then that means..." She trailed off, and her gaze melted into something much more sympathetic, a sadness that instinctively raised Jackson's defenses. "Are you jealous?"

The only thing that prevented Jackson from rejecting the idea outright was that there was no accusation in Lisa's tone, nothing judgmental- it was an honest question, and it deserved an honest response. "It's complicated," he finally replied, wishing he could put it all into quick, easy words, when the truth was so much more complex.

Yes- in the simplest terms, Jackson was jealous, but it _was_ complicated. On one hand, he didn't doubt that his brother loved him, and everything like that, but so often, Caleb followed him out of habit from years growing up with only each other for all intents and purposes. Or more accurately, there was a sense of obligation, a willingness to follow based on respect and admiration for Jackson. He knew that- they were a mere seven minutes apart in age, but Caleb looked up to him and pretty much always had.

Ben was different. Caleb had simply bonded with the older man, and it never seemed to have much to do with any kind of status- they had always been equals, really. They had pulled each other through so many of their respective low points, simply because they wanted to, and they seemed to feed off each other so often, and with no reason behind it. They were simply comfortable together. All Jackson had to do was remember just how morose Caleb had been back in Thomas' house and see that damn frame from the hotel footage of a much more relaxed man, less than an hour later, and it was undeniable.

But he couldn't explain this to Lisa, mostly because so much of Jackson's 'evidence' was technically unconfirmed. He and Caleb so rarely spoke of such things, but it didn't mean Jackson didn't know what was going on in the man's head- precisely the opposite. Caleb didn't have to explain it- Jackson knew, because he knew his brother like he knew himself.

"Do you remember when Ben went off on Caleb for ignoring his calls after he left?" Jackson asked, deciding that he had to at least try. He couldn't completely shut her out like this- all he could do was lay it out, and if she rejected it, she rejected it. He just hoped Lisa did recall the seemingly insignificant part of that drama, but when Lisa thankfully gave him a hesitant nod, obviously thrown off by what seemed like a topic change, Jackson continued.

"It's like I said," he tried to explain, the words coming out awkwardly to his own ears. It was so much easier to muse internally, because he spoke his own damn language. He didn't need to lay it out as accurately when he was talking to himself. "He knew that if he kept talking to Ben, he would get pulled back into the agency, and he didn't want it. He never said so," Jackson added quickly, knowing it would be dishonest to withhold the 'disclaimer', "but he didn't have to- there's no other reason, really. Ben would have made him miss it too much, and he would have come back."

"Jackson-" Lisa began slowly, but he waved an impatient hand, cutting her off. He was quite familiar with that tone. There was always that underlying 'y_ou're reading too much into it_'_._

"It doesn't matter that he never said so," he insisted, getting frustrated. He knew she would chalk it up to his imagination, paranoia, whatever. "Just trust me. He might as well have. I know him."

"It just doesn't make sense," Lisa explained, her own frustration growing. "You say he's unstable, that you don't believe he knows what he wants and it's only because of Ben, but then say that Ben doesn't make him do anything he doesn't want to do and you know him."

"I believe he wants it," Jackson replied softly, flushing in embarrassment. Why the hell couldn't he communicate this correctly?

"And you're upset that you weren't enough?" Lisa asked just as quietly, and Jackson took a drag of his cigarette.

"Yes," he replied honestly, with a hint of bitterness. "But that isn't the point. I respected his decision." He reached out and covered Lisa's mouth when she tried to speak again, knowing she was getting caught up in her analysis of every sentence that left his mouth. Just another disadvantage to how vague he could be- every word was read into and interpreted before he could get it all out.

"And I'm not saying Ben didn't," he added with a pointed look- he just knew that was going to be Lisa's next question. "My point is that Ben's not exactly rock-steady at the moment- he'll pull it together, probably, but at some point, he won't fucking be there. What happens then? Or what if Caleb's _wrong_ and thinks he wants it because the life he had is fucked now?" He sighed, releasing Lisa's mouth, but he wasn't finished. "I'm responsible for him," he explained softly, "even if he doesn't want me to be. And how am I supposed to put him at such a risk based on this complete change of heart in a matter of _hours_? And I'm not just talking about risking his physical safety..."

Lisa stared at Jackson, crossing her arms, and he frowned. He shouldn't have bothered her with this shit- he could very well be overthinking it all, really, even if he was sure he wasn't. And it wasn't as though she was going to give him any insight on this- he was just talking himself into more irritation. "We're leaving," she announced, to his surprise. "You're all over the place, and nothing I say is going to help. You know it too, which is probably why you're not letting me get a word in. You have to talk to _him_ about all this. At least give him a chance to answer your questions."

Jackson tilted his head back, staring at the balcony roof. He just didn't see how talking about it was going to help- Caleb was convinced. Arguing about it was only going to create more tension. "Well, it's either that, or tell him no," Lisa continued, seeming to read his mind. "Because you're not going to talk yourself into accepting it, are you? You're set on no, he's set on yes, and if you're not going to work to some kind of understanding, you might as well refuse now. And if nothing else," she murmured softly, stepping closer and rubbing her hands down his biceps, "it will get you out of Miami and you'll stop feeling so useless. And if you're going to refuse him, you owe him an entire explanation, don't you think?"

Jackson sighed deeply, lolling his head to the side before dropping it forward, placing a firm kiss on her mouth. She was right on all accounts, but the only one he would admit to was that he was dying to get the hell out of Florida. "Alright," he agreed, desperate to get this shit resolved so they could finally move out of limbo and to the next step. He just hoped he could get there before Ben.

* * *

**Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!**


End file.
